


Blood and Tears

by Selenophile_forever



Series: RANJEET SUPREMACY [2]
Category: Article 15 (2019), Article 15 (Movie 2019), RANJEET SUPREMACY, Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020), TVF Kota Factory (2019)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Because I want it, Blood, Character Death, Child Abuse, Crime, Deaths, Don't expect anything because I am a chutiya, Drama, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, GAY MARRAIGES AND ADOPTION IS LEAGAL, Heartbreak, Kidnapping, Love, M/M, Major?, Murder, Pain, Revenge, Romance, Tears, Thriller, Violence, do what you can, lot of pain, who will break your heart anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27836698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenophile_forever/pseuds/Selenophile_forever
Summary: In between murders, crime, blood and tears, a cop falls in love with a professor.The End? Happy Ending?Not so soon. Life shall change for the two once they have a family. From threats, kidnapping, murders and blood to tears, pain, heartbreak and broken ties.Revenge and Promises.Hate and Disgust.Blood and tears.They shall see it all, feel it all.Without each other, without love, without comfort.Shall they survive?
Relationships: Ayan Ranjan/Jeetu Bhaiya, Ayan Ranjan/Jitendra Maheshwari
Series: RANJEET SUPREMACY [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047496
Comments: 24
Kudos: 33





	1. Begin to bleed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enigma3000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigma3000/gifts), [queernozii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queernozii/gifts), [Kriti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kriti/gifts), [Ranjeet Supremasicts](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ranjeet+Supremasicts).



> I was going to make the first few chapters fun and fluff but I changed my mind. enjoy angst and pain from the very beginning.
> 
> Also, I shall dedicate this chapter to Kriti who threatened me to actually write, because I was motivation-deprived. I hate you chutiya but thanks anyways. You are the best. Yeah I wrote everything again with more dard.🙃 
> 
> Also, Harshita, because she too threatened me with guns, I love you😌
> 
> This is basically just me writing to express my weird love and obsession over Blood❤ Yeah, it is a kink, do what you can. (Which means, there is bohot sara blood)
> 
> TW: Depictions of blood and violence at the end😌✌
> 
> (Also, the one who gets that one Harry Styles song reference I used, gets cute dog pictures😌🥺- virtual)

Jeetu honked his car for the 6 sixth time mow. What on earth was taking so long for the traffic to clear?

It was already 7 and he had to reach the university in less than 20 minutes or he would be late to the 7:30 class. And Jeetu didn't want that. Jeetu was never late.

Ever.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as he always did when irritated or angry. When he opened his eyes, gods bless, the traffic was clearing. Jeetu moved on with them. After reaching a certain point, he noticed all the cars being checked by the police.

_Urgh!_ Jeetu cursed _yes, all of this had to happen when I am running late for the class._

The police officer called Jeetu to come forward. Jeetu reached. He stopped the car just in front of the officer, a little faster and the officer would be dead by now.

"Sorry, Sir!" Jeetu shouted from inside the car.

Two _hawaldars_ started checking the car for any suspicious activities or things stored. Of course, he didn't. He was a physics professor, not a terrorist or someone hiding from the police.

The officer, who Jeetu had nearly killed a few moments ago, came near Jeetu's car and asked him to lower the window. He was a huge officer with chubby cheeks and slight grey hair. He tapped on the glass thrice and Jeetu lowered it down.

"What was it a few minutes ago? Don't you know how to drive?" He spoke to Jeetu in an understandable angry voice.

"Sorry, sir! I was getting late for class and wanted to get out as soon as possible." Jeetu apologized.

"Kids these days!" The officer huffed. "Can you not leave a little early? Where do you study?"

_What the actual fuck?!_ Jeetu thought. _Kid? I study where?_

"Officer! I am a professor at Delhi University." He quickly spoke.

"Oh!" The officer scoffed.

"Can I leave?" Jeetu asked, not wanting to be late. The officer nodded but stopped him again a second later.

"Where is your seat belt?" He asked.

Jeetu realized he had undone the belt some minutes ago when he was stuck in traffic because it was suffocating him.

"I am sorry sir! I was suffocating hence I had undone it just a few minutes ago. I swear. I'll wear it again." Jeetu apologized again.

"Do you think I am a fool? You nearly killed me today. You aren't wearing a seat-belt. What the heck?! Where is your license?" He officer growled.

"Sir, I'll wear it again. Why are you creating a nuisance here?"

"License!" He screamed.

Jeetu had to comply. He would do anything right now. He had to reach on time. He reached for his license in the wallet.

And boom.

No wallet.

He left the wallet at home.

He didn't even have the license then.

_What a perfect start to a morning._

"Where is it?" The officer asked again.

"Sir, I guess I left the wallet at home. I have it, I swear." He pleaded now.

"Wow! This is the 9th time I am getting the same excuse for those who don't have licensed." The officer scoffed at Jeetu.

"Sir..." Jeetu started but was cut off by the officer.

"Gupta _Ji_ , tow the car to the main police station. I guess we'll have added another car to the collection. And I am also taking him there. Let him have a word with Sir!"

"Sir! I am...." Jeetu tried but was again shushed.

He was pulled out of the car and into the police jeep. To add up to Jeetu's irritation the officer cuffed his hands and pushed him in a way as if he was a murderer who had murdered some politician. Why was he exaggerating stuff?

Not wanting to think about this, Jeetu closed his eyes shut and began concentrating on his breathing once again.

Not that he was scared or anything, just that he hated this feeling.

He hated this morning.

He hated this day.

For reasons many.

Woke up late.

Was running late for the first time.

Got caught up in traffic.

Forgot his wallet home, and hence his license.

Being dragged to the police station as a fucking criminal.

_Also,_ _children, the classes have been cancelled for today._

What a happy morning!

In no time, they reached the police station and Jeetu was taken in. He wanted to stop the police officer and ask what actually his fault to be treated so gravely was. But he couldn’t. He had colossal respect for the police and didn’t think was appropriate to poke his nose in their work.

He knew he wasn’t wrong. Uh, okay- he was but a fine was good to do. Wasn’t it? He would be set free soon after and then probably he could go back and apologize, again. This time for being late.

But here he was, at the police station. The only thing he feared right now was the officer being as rude as the one who bought him here.

He hadn’t even met the person yet and still, he hated him, the reason- nothing as such but because everything pissed him off right now. As the sarcastic ‘chaliye sir’ of the huge policeman brought him out of his reverie, he could look at a man with his back to Jeetu.

He was a tall man, at least quite taller than Jeetu and he had been talking to someone on his phone. He sounded tensed and even angered. If Jeetu was right, the man would want to smash something right then. Maybe the glass of water on the same table on which he was sitting. Maybe one of his officers. Or the worst case- Jeetu.

_Will this day stop giving me reasons to hate it_? Jeetu thought to himself. _I hate everything right now._

The officer finally ended his call. He put his head in his hands, clearly frustrated. Jeetu for a brief second saw himself at his place. He would be at the same place at times, frustrated, irritated and yet not wording his thoughts. He would sit in the same position as the officer now.

He saw his reflection in the other man.

“Ayan Sir!” The huge officer called out.

The man who Jeetu had been interpreting things about, looked at them. And Oh My God! His eyes were red. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for over a week. Tired, totally tired. His eyes were beautiful though. Black like the sky at night and round like the moon. They were glimmering like the stars.

Jeetu’s focus went to his eyebrows, too thick, like bushes. His lips were luscious but pale, dry as if not had a drop of water in ages. And just above those lips was a moustache. A moustache, for real. It made the man look hot. It enhanced the utter beauty that he already was. It felt oddly soothing.

Jeetu felt calm for the first time since morning. He felt good. It all felt like free therapy. And for the first time since morning, Jeetu didn’t mind being late. He didn’t mind being brought here. In fact, for some reason unknown, he felt happy.

“What is it?” The officer, Ayan asked in an angry voice.

The angered tone startled the officer who had been holding Jeetu. He composed himself and then started, “Sir. This man tried to kill me. And he doesn’t even have a license.”

Jeetu looked at the man shocked. Couldn’t he just clearly state the matter? Jeetu glanced at Ayan once again. He looked hurt as if someone close to his heart had done wrong.

The kind of aura that Ayan carried spoke for him. Jeetu could make out that he wasn’t like other policemen. He would stand for the truth even if it meant going against their loved ones. And the look Ayan held was a hurting one. Neither was Jeetu his closed one nor was he hurting (forgotten the fact that the officer only presented half the truth).

Jeetu was confused.

But right now, he wanted to clear his side.

He was no criminal.

“Excuse me, sir?” Jeetu started.

Ayan nodded, asking him to speak.

But just as he was about to voice his thoughts, he was interrupted by the huge officer.

“Bhramadatt Ji. Will you let me hear him?” Ayan defended Jeetu.

“Sir, what he said was only one part.” Jeetu started again. “The entire story is different.”

Jeetu waited for 3 seconds and continued when he heard no interruptions.

“So, firstly, I am Jitendra Maheshwari. No criminal, but a physics professor at the Delhi University.” Jeetu said, taunting Bhramadatt. “I was late this morning and got stopped for a check. And because I was driving my car little fast, when I applied the brakes, the car stopped just a few inches from Mr Bhramadatt. Neither was he harmed nor anyone else.”

Jeetu exhaled.

“And as far as the license is concerned,” He continued. “I left my wallet back home because I was running late. My license is in it. I have one, yes. That’s it. Thank you for letting me present my side.”

Ayan glared at Bhramadatt, disgusted.

He felt betrayed.

After being at the same place for the next thirty seconds or so, Ayan finally walked towards them. He came to stand right in front of Bhramadatt. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He finally looked at Jeetu and spoke.

“I hope you aren’t lying about your license.” He said.

Jeetu nodded in a no.

“Mayank,” He called someone, and a man in his mid-twenties arrived. “Call the RTO and check if Mr Maheshwari has a license issued on his name.”

“Yes sir,” Mayank replied.

Mayank took Jeetu a little away from the other two police officers and asked Jeetu a little information to suffice at the RTO. Mayank started to talk and Jeetu to pass the time began observing the surroundings. As he was busy soaking in the surroundings, he heard Ayan’s voice cut through the silence of the police station.

“Bhramadatt _Ji_ , do you even realize what you’ve done? You let that bastard go whilst checking on random people and bringing them here for no reason.”

The anger in Ayan’s eyes was coming out through his tongue now.

“Sir…” Bhramadatt started but was abruptly cut down by Ayan again.

“Anshu Naharia is a criminal. He is a threat to the city. He may kill people. Do you know it is looking as if you are saving the criminal? I didn’t send you to chill!” Ayan spat.

“I respect you because you are elder to but mark my words, I won’t tolerate the irresponsibility right here.” He screamed. “Do you get it?”

“Yes sir.” Bhramadatt agreed.

Ayan nodded and turned to look towards Mayank. For a fleeting second Ayan and Jeetu’s eyes met. They would have stayed staring had Mayank not called Ayan and broken the comforting gaze.

“Sir,” He said. “Mr Maheshwari has a license. I checked.”

“Great,” Ayan said. He then looked at Jeetu again. “Thank you so much for cooperating, sir. And we genuinely apologize for the inconvenience caused to you.”

Jeetu smiled at him.

Sincerely.

“Sir, I am sorry but we’ll have to fine you for driving while not having a license,” Ayan told him.

Jeetu agreed and asked the amount, which turned out to be 5000. He recalled he had no wallet and hence took out his phone to pay the fine.

After the formalities were done, Jeetu started to move out when the thought of his car returned to him.

“Excuse me, sir?” he called Ayan. “What about my car?”

“Oh.” Ayan squealed. He walked towards Jeetu and spoke again. “I would recommend you come back tomorrow morning to get your car back. I know you are no criminal, but formalities.”

Jeetu agreed and finally left the police station.

~~~

Ayan switched off his phone after answering the 6 phone call from his seniors. According to the sources, Anshu Naharia had escaped from the same place from where Bhramadatt had brought the man this morning for no reason at all. It was all under his control and he couldn’t do anything.

He was immensely angered. He knew there were loopholes but he didn’t where they were or how to fix them even. Anshu Naharia obviously wasn’t capable to do all of this together. It was all planned. He would have to find out, no, he had no choice.

The city was at stake.

No one was safe till Anshu was free.

Not his brother back home (or office).

Not any of his loved ones.

Not him.

He felt like smacking off the glass of water on the table. He was so angered he felt he would smack one of his officers. He felt like he had no control. He was worried, tensed yet frustrated. He wanted to kill someone right away.

_STOP!_ His subconscious called him out. _What are you even thinking Ayan Ranjan? Why am I thinking unlike me? Thinking like someone I don’t want around._

Ayan inhaled sharply, trying to get rid of all the negative thoughts. He hadn’t been getting proper sleep the entire week. It was all so tiresome. His eyes were red now, and completely tired. His lips were pale as a dead. He wanted to get back home and talk his heart out to his brother.

And so he did. He got up and called Jatav- the sub-inspector.

“I want to go home, Jatav _Ji_.” He said. “I’ll leave.”

“Okay, sir. You should rest.”

Ayan left the police station, tired. His mind somehow kept going to Anshu and his doings. Once he was in his car, he sat there for some 10 minutes, freeing his mind wanting to go back in time, to when everything was good.

Once he felt better, he started his car. As he kept moving forward, even if unwillingly, his thoughts went back to the earlier half of the day.

When Bhramadatt had brought the man to the police station.

Jitendra Maheshwari.

The moment he looked at the man, he felt calm. The rage in him had quieted and a sense of peacefulness took over him.

Ayan smiled to himself. It was weird yet blissful. If it weren’t for Jitendra, he didn’t what or how he would have behaved with Bhramadatt.

It sometimes became difficult for him too. So much of chaos, so much mess, made him lose his cool timely. Today could have been the same if the little man hadn’t come here.

He was a short man with an unkempt beard, who looked like one of those people who would be ready to help anyone in need. Honey-brown eyes and lush pink lips. His eyes spoke more than his words would be able to. They had a completely different attraction in them.

Ayan recalled how the lips moved when he spoke. His speech had confidence which screamed he wasn’t wrong. Ayan had always liked confidence. His smile widened.

He was lost in Jitendra’s thoughts when he saw a man standing a little ahead. He looked familiar. Ayan rushed his car and stopped it exactly in front of the man.

To his surprise, the man was the same guy who he had been thinking about. Jitendra Maheshwari. He chuckled to himself and lowered the car window.

“You like wasting your time like this every night or is today any special?” He asked Jitendra.

Turns out the man hadn’t noticed when the car had halted right in front of him, until now.

“Hey! Mr Officer.” He said. “No, I was just trying to book a cab, unluckily; it shows ‘No cabs available.’”

Ayan laughs at the face Jitendra had made.

“Excuse me, sir! Do not laugh” Jitendra teased. “I had a wonderful car but someone kept it with them for a day.”

Ayan amplified his eyes, stunned by the fact that a man was indirectly taunting him, after knowing he was a police officer. He smiled to himself and then looked at Jitendra again.

“Look Jitendra, I am sorry for your inconvenience.” Ayan whimpered.

Jitendra smiled approving his apology. They kept looking into each other’s eyes for a few more seconds when Ayan broke their gaze and spoke again.

“Do mind if I drop you home?” He announced.

“No, umm…I guess, I am fine. I’ll find a way out.” Jitendra hesitated.

Of course, Ayan knew the reason for his hesitation but there was some deep force that wanted to be Jitendra. It was some weird attraction he felt for the man, and so he persuaded him.

After much hesitation for exactly 1.8 minutes, Jitendra hopped on to the passenger seat.

Ayan followed his instructions and moved the car towards Jitendra’s home.

“So, how long have you been in Delhi?” Ayan asked after silence had fallen between them.

“I shifted here some 6 years ago. Though I hail from Rajasthan, there are a lot of places I’ve resided.” Jitendra replied.

“And what about you Mr Ranjan?” He questioned back.

“Okay, so firstly please call me Ayan, Mr Ranjan is too formal.” Ayan pleaded. “And I was born in Lucknow, but I have been in Delhi for slightly more than 3 years.”

“Okay, Ayan. So you live alone?”

“No, I live with my brother, Nakul,” Ayan told him. “Apply the same question for yourself.”

Jitendra laughed.

“I am an alone soul.” He told. “No one with me.”

Jitendra made a puppy dog face and Oh. My. Gosh. Ayan would be absolutely lying if he said that it didn’t make his heart skip a beat. To cover up his blush that had crept on, Ayan coughed and looked straight ahead.

Within a fraction of second, he saw Jitendra handing him a bottle of water. He took the bottle and sipped water from it, even though he wasn’t thirsty.

The passing fifteen minutes went by very quickly as the two men, talked about each other getting to know about each other, laughed at silly jokes and spoke about their lives.

Ayan had surprised himself at how quickly he had opened up. He found a friend in Jitendra. He felt happy and secure. Not for a minute had there been discomfort between. As they reached Jitendra’s house and when he had to bid him adieu, he felt a part of his heart go away with Jitendra.

The men said their final good-byes and Ayan headed for his own house.

~~~

Ayan parked his car in the basement and took the lift to reach home. The lift on the fifth floor and Ayan stepped out only to find a few drops of blood right in front of the lift. The first reaction- as a police officer- was suspicion. Blood drops for reason? It obviously was suspicious.

But another- much smaller part- told him it must be a common cut on someone’s body from doing random things. He let the blood pass his mind and moved forward. As he approached his home, he turned pale.

There was blood all over.

A lot of it.

The front door looked as is painted in blood. Ayan ran towards the blood and banged on the door. He didn’t get any response.

He noticed the blood was fresh, probably the fiasco was just some time ago.

Ayan banged again.

This time, however, he heard a low whimper, calling for help.

He knew who it was.

He could recognize the voice anywhere.

Nakul’s voice.

“NAKUL!!” He screamed at the top of his voice. He heard another cry for help,

Ayan quickly went through his pockets and dug out his house keys. He unlocked the door and was devastated to see blood all over. It felt as if every inch of his house was covered in blood.

The walls were red; his peach sofa was blood red. He would have run away had he not been used to all the blood in the years of his service.

“Nakul!” He called for his brother again to get another cry for help.

The voice came from the kitchen.

His feet involuntarily took him to the occurrence of the voice. Nakul lay there, on the floor, covered in his own blood. A knife stabbed in his back from where all the blood was oozing.

Ayan couldn’t bear to see him like this. He could hear Nakul coughing continuously. Nakul was unable to even breathe properly. Ayan ran towards and sat on his knees, pulling Nakul lightly towards himself.

He caressed him, tried hushing him, calming him, but he knew nothing would help. Nakul was in immense pain, and every second was killing him.

Ayan couldn’t afford to lose Nakul. **NO!** The thought sent down shivers in his entire body. Nakul, after all, was all he had. They had been too tight to let go. They stuck on to each other, in times of pain and comfort. Ayan would do anything to save him.

Give his life if needed.

He quickly dialled the ambulance and they assured him they would arrive soon. Ayan kept caressing Nakul trying to calm him down. He wanted to do his best. He took out his kerchief from the pocket and tried cleaning up the wound, not harming Nakul even a tad bit.

When he had been cleaning, he heard his phone ring. He found it to be an unknown number. Not wanting to divert his attention, he cut the phone. Seven seconds later the phone rang again, flashing the same number. He angrily picked up the phone, making up his mind to just ask the person to call him later. Calmly. Peacefully.

“You shouldn’t have made me call you twice.” The person on the other end said.

“Is it okay if I call later? I am in between something.” Ayan said.

“The ambulance will arrive, don’t worry.” The man started again. Ayan was shocked. “You cleaning up the wounds won’t help much.”

“Hello! Who is this?” Ayan spoke.

“That doesn’t matter!” The man scoffed. “The ambulance shall arrive in another 10 seconds, and then I’ll speak.”

Ayan heard the siren of the ambulance. He looked at the phone completely shaken. He knew it was planned, but to an extent this high was disturbing. The doctors arrived with the ward boys and stretchers.

They took Nakul to the ambulance and the doctors started the immediate treatment. Nakul had followed them and was about to get on the ambulance to accompany Nakul, but a loud _‘Stop!’_ from the phone stopped him.

He had forgotten the call was still going on.

“Let the ambulance go.” The man said. “You will reach the hospital in your car. You don’t have any other option other than agreeing; remember your brother was almost killed?”

Ayan asked the ambulance to leave, scared.

He got on his car and drove to the hospital.

“Who are you? Why are you doing it?” Ayan screamed.

“Shush! Don’t raise your voice. I don’t like it.” He replied. “To be honest, I don’t care about your questions. All I need you to know is that I am way more powerful than you are. Stop chasing me. Stop trying to get me arrested.”

Anshu Naharia.

Ayan knew it was Anshu Naharia, the man who he had been wanted to track down after he ran away from jail.

“Anshu Naharia?” Ayan confirmed.

“ _Arey_! You are smarter than I imagined. Why do you want to get me arrested? For promotion? What shall you do with a promotion? I’ll give you more money than what you get paid. Just tell me the amount. It shall reach you.”

“You bloody bastard! I won’t spare you.” Ayan shouted to the phone. “You had no right to involve my brother in this! You shall now pay for it!”

Anshu laughed an evil laugh.

“Can you chill? I know what my men have done. Your brother will only have numerous cuts, a lot of blood loss and internal bleeding. It will be difficult for him to breathe but then a ventilator would work. He would be on bed rest for a couple of months, that’s it. Its unfortunate you arrived early, I had presumed you would be at the police station, or else your brother had been dead.” Anshu huffed. “That would have been a greater scare isn’t it?”

“Anshu Naharia! I’ll kill you! You won’t be spared. Mark my words.” Ayan yelled, though his voice wasn’t too stable. He felt exhausted and a part of him was scared.

And that scared him even further.

Ayan Ranjan was not one of the men who would be scared by a goon.

But here, Nakul was involved.

A closed one. His brother. His family.

And that’s where men and women stumble.

When families are threatened. Where families aren’t safe, that’s where even a man like Ayan would take two steps back.

“Mind well, I have more power than you have,” Anshu spoke, bringing Ayan out of his state of tense. “Today I painted your brother red in his own blood, next could be you!”

Anshu laughed again.

“Imagine Ayan,” he started again. “It is late in the night; you are driving just like right now and you hear a gunshot and then all red. Your red?”

Ayan opened his mouth to protest but heard a loud gunshot.

The next thing he remembered was red all over, his car crashing in one of the poles on the roadside and the black, dark sky with white twinkling stars.

But what stayed was red.

All red.

Everywhere!

~~~


	2. Care without words, but actions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ayan and Jeetu's friendship advances. They spend time together, get to know each other. 
> 
> Ayan feels secure with Jeetu even though it has been hardly a day they know each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am alive, just unwell. But like yeah, I wrote. I legitimate bled words because this is what a 6.1k words long chapter. That is how I make up for the delay and my mistakes.  
> Grab your coffee or tea or any beverage or food even because it is a long one. 
> 
> I have assignments to do but completing this was more necessary, yes! So please be proud of me✌
> 
> Forgive me, please🥺✨

“Anshu Naharia! I’ll kill you! You won’t be spared. Mark my words.” Anshu heard Ayan yell. His voice wasn’t too stable, and it was one of the first human nature characteristics he had learnt. An unstable voice indicated a scared person.

Anshu had stopped fearing people, and by people, he meant everybody. No one scared him anymore, nothing did.

He had stopped fearing people long back when he lost his family and since then, Anshu became the one to give birth to fear in the minds of men and women alike.

Ayan Ranjan, a police officer, one of those who stood for the right and not for money. He was one of those who feared none. It was pleasing for Anshu to hear desperate pleas from him. It was fun for him to hear a scared voice.

But Anshu was angered. Even the slight confidence Ayan’s voice held, triggered his ego. And ego is man’s worst enemy. He went on to threaten Ayan. To the extent, it would hurt.

“Mind well, I have more power than you have,” Anshu spoke, with a hope of being able to suppress the slight confidence the police officer’s voice held. “Today I painted your brother red in his blood, next could be you!”

He laughed, at his own humourless words.

“Imagine Ayan,” he started again. “It is late in the night; you are driving just like right now and you hear a gunshot and then, all red. Your red?”

Anshu had no plans of killing Ayan right away. But he did have plans to enjoy through the journey and would arrange for his enjoyment.

He gestured to one of his men to take their gun out.

And asked him to pull the trigger up in the air, to not harm any of their people. The gunshot must have startled Ayan because Anshu knew he wasn’t prepared for this in a bit.

As the minor impromptu plan, Anshu had created half an hour ago, this would be the first warning for Ayan. Accordingly, one of Anshu’s trusted men would be following Ayan to the hospital and when the time comes, would aim a stone at Ayan.

He would throw a plastic bag full of blood-red paint. The paint would be close to feel like blood, and the stone would cause a little blood to ooze out.

And to Anshu’s happiness, things went according to his plan. And to add spice to it, he heard Ayan’s car crash somewhere.

Anshu snickered evilly. He closed his eyes and smirked.

**~~~**

Jeetu took out the test papers and sat on his dining table. He skipped dinner once again and went ahead to check the latest papers. It has become a habit now. Skipping meals, putting him in a bubble and doing what is required.

_ You’re a bore. And life isn’t supposed to be so plain. I can’t- _

Jeetu heard the voice again. It was no surprise to hear it at least once every day; it was like a necessity now. Like a drug.

It was like a swamp. The more he wanted to get out, the more he got in. No person liked being hurt; no person liked the darker parts of their lives to be scrapped. Not even Jeetu, but the one-sentence ruined him.

Every day more than the last.

He was a bore, no doubt. It was a self-accepted fact. But not anymore.

Jeetu had changed as everyone did. He had become a much better person now. Much wiser and much happier. If years ago that one line had broken him apart, today it helped him become strong.

If today someone would have said those words to him, Jeetu would have laughed at their face and went away. And that is what he called progress.

Seven papers down, his head started giving a little ache. He pulled out his spectacles from the case and continued checking the papers, staining some papers with red due to the many mistakes and some with just red ticks.

Three more papers down, the pain started to increase; it almost felt as if someone had thrown a stone at him and had been pulling his hair all along. He reluctantly stood up from the chair and walked towards the kitchen where he kept his medicines. 

On reaching the kitchen, to Jeetu’s horror, he realized that there weren’t any migraine pills. He had run out of it.

Again.

He would’ve let go but the pain was hitting him like a rod, but with more force. As a final recourse, he decided to fetch the medicines from the local dispensary. He kept his specs back in the case, took his wallet and descended the building steps to reach the dispensary.

Only to realise, once he reached, it was too late for the dispensary to be open.

_ I can’t believe this!  _ Jeetu sighed.  _ The entire universe decides to go against me in a single day. _

Because he was already out of his comfort zone, Jeetu finally decided to give a break to his headache and for that, he was ready to head to the hospital where he would get his medicines.

He booked an auto because he recalled his car being confiscated by the police for a day. He soon reached his destination and went to the dispensary in the hospital. 

“I need five strips of Vasograin, sir.” Jeetu requested the budtender.

Jeetu had a fidgety mind sometimes, especially when he had to wait for something. And as he waited- not so patiently- for his medicines, he turned to look around the hospital. The ambience, the hygiene, the tidiness and the people of the hospital, Jeetu started noticing it all. 

Every person who stood in the hospital looked tensed, and rightly so. He pitied them, empathised them. The patients were maybe critical or maybe not, but their family members or anyone who accompanied the patients looked more concerned. 

He wished for everyone’s happiness and well being there. 

Amongst all these, one distant figure caught Jeetu’s sight. Tall, perfect physique but bloodied. He was covered in red.

“Sir, here are your medicines.” The budtender distracted Jeetu’s attention and he turned towards him. Jeetu paid the due amount and was about to leave when the stature caught Jeetu’s attention once again. He glanced at the man, but his eyes kept put.

Of course, it was more than uncommon for Jeetu to see a man in blood-red every day, but what felt more strange was the pain Jeetu had been feeling up. The migraine felt zilch before this. The stature felt like one’s own and the pain felt more than that.

Involuntarily, Jeetu moved towards the frame. And as he moved closer, it felt like a familiar figure. Someone Jeetu had known, had seen. Same forty steps away, Jeetu realised who he was.

Ayan.

Ayan Ranjan.

The police officer.

Jeetu paced towards him, all scared, all hurting. Being a police officer, Jeetu knows Ayan must have been through the hardest of times, but seeing him this way for the first time was a weird mixed feeling of disgust, empathy, petrified and agony. 

His feet were finally able to reach their presumed destination. He stood right behind Ayan as he watched him twiddle with his hands. It took Jeetu some time to be able to stand in front of Ayan and question him. He didn’t want to startle Ayan in a state like this.

Once Jeetu had enough suspense in his mind, he called out to Ayan. Ayan at once turned to face Jeetu. 

Ayan’s face had scratches all over. The forehead had a dressing around it. The wounds had been mended at least. Ayan looked as shocked to see Jeetu as the other way round. He wanted to speak, a lot of things. His eyes had many questions to ask, but somehow Jeetu noticed he kept mum. Not uttering a word, or more precisely, not being able to. 

Jeetu inhaled sharply, causing Ayan to look at him. He finally gained the courage to speak up. 

“What are you doing here?” Jeetu began. “And may I ask what’s all this blood?”

Ayan didn’t speak for a minute. Ayan didn’t need to answer Jeetu’s questions, technically. He had the entire right to not answer them and ignore Jeetu. But he did speak up, after a minute of silence.

“It’s nothing Jitendra. Its nothi-” Ayan tried to speak, but his voice broke. He could no longer speak. Jeetu saw him struggling and moved closer to comfort Ayan. But in contrast to Jeetu’s action, Ayan moved back a few steps.

If the physics teacher, Jeetu Bhaiya, stood here, he would have told his students that this was the perfect example of Newton’s Third Law of motion,  _ ‘Every action has an equal and opposite reaction’,  _ but right now Jeetu, the person stood here.

And he felt bad for Ayan.

But before Jeetu could speak another word, Ayan drowned on a chair nearby and put his head in his hands. Jeetu saw Ayan shaking. He knew Ayan was crying. Jeetu was ready to do anything to be able to comfort Ayan right now. 

With much hesitation, Jeetu sat down, leaving a gap of one chair in between them. He sat there waiting for Ayan to calm himself on his own. Jeetu heard Ayan sniff. He could feel Ayan suppressing his cries, probably because he didn’t want to look weak in front of another person. 

He wasn’t entirely wrong after all. 

Society had taught men to always be strong, to never cry or show their true, vulnerable emotions. Toxic masculinity had a huge impact on Ayan it seems. But somewhere deep down Ayan wanted to express himself, if not always, at least today. At least now. Today was necessary for him to express it else the would become a burden for Ayan. Jeetu knew.

After sobbing and shedding his tears as quietly as possible, Ayan finally looked up. And he looked straight in Jeetu’s eyes. Inhaling sharply, Ayan finally spoke up.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

The words weren’t meant to be rude, Jeetu well knew that. He knew Ayan was asking it out of concern but the words felt like arrows pierced in his body. The words felt heavy. He tried to reply calmly.

“I h-had a mi-migraine.” Jeetu stammered. “I had no meds at home and the local dispensary was already shut. So I had to come here to buy some. But Ayan, that is b-”

“You have a migraine?” Ayan cut down Jeetu’s words. “Are you feeling any better now?” 

“No, I mean, I did not have the meds yet,” Jeetu said in a small voice.

“Why would you do that to yourself?” Ayan pumped.

Before Jeetu could word his thoughts, Ayan walked off. Jeetu saw him go up to the water filter and get him a glass of water. Jeetu was softened and the gesture Ayan made. Ayan was in pain and agony but he still made a move for Jeetu. 

Ayan gestured to Jeetu to have his medicines. Jeetu concurred and had his medicines quietly. Ayan came to sit right beside Jeetu. 

_ This man here looks in a thousand times more pain than me but having my medicines were more important.  _ Jeetu remarked sarcastically.

He could no longer hold back his questions. He needed answers. Ayan was covered in blood. And it was eerie to look at anyone in blood.

“Ayan, for god’s sake answer me. Why is there so much blood on you? Why are you in the hospital? What is happening?” Jeetu quipped.

Ayan looked at Jeetu. “Why do you care?”

“Why did you care for me? Why do you care if I have a migraine or not?” Jeetu asked, angered. 

“I-” Ayan started but fell short of words. He couldn’t bring himself to answer Jeetu’s questions. Ayan himself had no idea why he did care. But he did. Unanswered but genuine care.

“You can’t answer it Ayan, accept the bloody fact!” Jeetu exclaimed. “You don’t have to answer, but I need the answer to the former questions. I am not used to seeing anyone in so much blood.”

When Ayan didn’t answer Jeetu’s question, he apologized softly. He realised he was scaring Ayan. Right now, Ayan needs support more than the need to answer questions. Ayan, as such, was not answerable to Ayan. Why shall he? Who was Jeetu after all?

Jeetu turned to look away from Ayan, not being able to face the other man anymore. He felt guilty. He drowned in his musings of overthinking and  _ criminality _ . 

“Most of this blood you see is not my blood.” Ayan began as he looked down at his feet. “The little other part is not even blood.”

Jeetu looked at Ayan confused. Ayan still looked at his feet and was fidgeting with his hands. Ayan looked scared and though Jeetu had known Ayan for less than 24 hours, he knew this wasn’t common. 

“I- When- Nak-” Ayan stammered. He looked up at Jeetu, their eyes met and stayed like that. There wasn’t any awkwardness between them. All the silence felt very comforting. Ayan inhaled and then continued. 

“When I reached home after dropping you off, it seemed pretty okay until I reached my floor. I saw blood drops right smack in front of the lift, but I let that go. I reached the front door and there was blood. Like a lot of it. It almost seemed as if someone had deliberately painted the door red in blood.” Ayan’s voice broke at the last part, he had turned his face again.

Jeetu stretched his hand to place it on Ayan’s shoulder to provide him succour but stopped mid-way. He felt that it would be invading Ayan’s private space. 

Ayan looked at Jeetu again and spoke again. 

It was much like Ayan found the strength to speak in Jeetu’s eyes.

“As I went in, I saw the house entirely in blood. I was shocked.” He closed his eyes. “And then heard Nakul crying for help, calling me. As I reached to where the sounds came from, I saw Nakul covered in blood, a knife stabbed in his back.

Nakul was choking, he was coughing and wasn’t even able to breat-” Ayan shot his eyes open in horror. Jeetu concluded that he must have been replaying the scene in his head. Ayan was shaking again. He looked close to another breakdown.

“I called the ambulance right that moment, but-” Ayan coughed.

Jeetu gave him the glass of water which was half unfinished. Ayan hesitantly drank it.

“It’s all because of me, Jitendra. It’s all because of me. I knew Nakul wasn’t wholly safe after Anshu ran from the prison but I was still careless, and now he is in the ICU after surgery.” Jeetu saw tears roll down Ayan’s eyes. 

“I am scared Jitendra. I am very scared, and what’s more worrisome is that I am not easily scared. Anshu knows I am scared and he will do this best to harm Nakul or even me for that matter.” 

Anshu, he sounded like a criminal to what Jeetu heard but he didn’t need to ask about him.

Not at all.

“I just hate how fun this is for Anshu. The stitches and band-aids are because of a minor accident I was in right some time ago. He fired the gun over the phone and I was startled, I lost control over the car and bumped into a pole.” Jeetu was appalled. Ayan had an accident and he was least bothered about it.

“Are you fine, Ayan? You sound so casual.” Jeetu spoke for the first time since Ayan started telling him the entire thing.

“I am fine. The stone didn’t do anything apart from breaking the window of the car, and the blood-red paint painted me in more red.” Ayan said.

“What stone? Blood-red paint. What?”

“Ah! I guess it was Anshu again, he ordered a man to throw a stone at my car. He has a sharp mind. He also asked the man to throw some red paint on me. So, I guess he isn’t too smart.” Ayan smiled.

“I can’t believe you are smiling. How do you bring yourself to joke Mr Ranjan?” Jeetu pumped. 

“I don’t know. Don’t even ask.” Ayan replied, his smile fading.

After a moment of silence, Ayan tapped on Jeetu’s shoulder to gain his attention while Jeetu had been looking away. “Why do you ask, Jitendra? I mean, we don’t even know each other. Why would you care if I was in pain?”

Jeetu gazed at Ayan for a few seconds. He opened his mouth to answer but shut it again. 

What would he say?

Jeetu had no answers.

Why?

Why did he care?

Ayan raised his eyebrows to ask but then held the band-aid sharply. The sudden movement must have caused pain. Jeetu moved closer to Ayan and placed a hand on his forehead.

“Why can’t you be more careful?” Jeetu questioned Ayan in exasperation.

He worried for Ayan.

He did.

“See!” Ayan exclaimed.

“What?” Jeetu asked in the same exasperated voice.

“You care as a mother would care for their child. No stranger does that. Why do you?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I have no answers. It hurts to see you in pain.” Jeetu replied while slightly blowing the wound, over the band-aid. Useless but did Aayn mind?

His mother would do this, whenever Jeetu hurt himself as a child. 

Cuts. 

Wounds. 

Everything would be fine. The blowing of air was magical.

“It physically hurts to see you like this. I know it's weird, but it happens. What will you do? Arrest me?” Jeetu continued.

“None,” The man in question said. “I didn’t say I mind it though.”

Jeetu glanced at Ayan’s eyes and soon realized they were not very apart from each other. Jeetu quickly moved back.

Awkward.

_ Very nice. _

“I feel better, thank you,” Ayan told Jeetu. In response, Jeetu only passed a half-smile.

Minutes passed in silence. Neither of them spoke a word. They just stayed there for a long time. Jeetu had no idea why he was staying. He could just say, _'_ _ Okay Ayan, I guess I shall leave, I have class tomorrow and I don’t want to be late for two consecutive days. Bye!'  _ And leave. Ayan won’t mind. Ayan wasn’t even expecting Jeetu there, it was a coincidence.

But Jeetu couldn’t bring himself to say it. He couldn’t bring himself to stand up and leave. He couldn’t bring himself to leave ayan here all alone. He didn’t want to. He would do anything to help the man.

Jeetu’s thoughts were interrupted by a shrill high-pitched voice of a nurse. She sounded a little cheerful. Why? A man’s loved one was in the ICU after surgery and she thought cheerfulness was a good idea. Wow. But Jeetu didn’t word his emotions.

“Sir, no one is allowed here at night. The visiting hours are long over.” She addressed Ayan.

“Why can’t I? My brother is in the ICU. I need to be here for him. What if he needs something? I can’t just go away.” Ayan hurriedly spoke. 

“Sir, I know you are concerned, but there are some rules you need to follow. You, yourself aren’t in a good state. I am sorry I can’t permit you.” She informed Ayan.

“What do you mean? I don’t care about how bad a state I am in. Do you hear yourself? I’ll stay here. With my brother.” Ayan screamed. At this point Ayan was standing tall in front of the nurse, scaring her a bit. Jeetu stood up too.

“Sir, please we can’t allow you.” The nurse addressed Jeetu now, her voice downcast. “Please understand. Ask sir to agree. He can come back tomorrow, for sure.”

Jeetu nodded and looked at Ayan. “She is right, you should go home Ayan. Clean yourself up. Please.”

Ayan looked at Jeetu with pleading eyes, wanting to say a lot of words and sentences but not uttering a single syllable. “But I haven’t even seen Nakul after the ambulance left.”

Jeetu held Ayan with his arms. Ayan was a little big to fit in entirely in Jeetu’s arms, but that didn’t matter. Jeetu hushed Ayan and asked him to understand how they couldn’t break the rules. He promised that Ayan would be able to meet Nakul the next morning and somehow managed to let Ayan out to the exit.

The nurse worded a ‘thank you’ to Jeetu and he smiled back.

Ayan and Jeetu now stood at the exit and Ayan still looked a little low.

“Ayan you shall go home,” Jeetu commanded Ayan. He needed Ayan to take care of himself. He needed Ayan to rest and be strong. 

But he noticed Ayan going pale. He noticed Ayan flinched. As if horrified.

“I can't go back to that house,” Ayan mumbled. 

“Why? Ayan you need to-”

“I don’t want to, please. I cannot. It’s all bloodied. It is eerie. I cannot, please.” Ayan cut Jeetu down.

Jeetu decided to not question him further, he understood but in a jiffy was struck with another thought. “Where would you go then? Like, where would you stay the night?”

“I don’t know. I might rent a room in an inn, I guess.” Ayan said in a small voice.

That would be fine, but somehow Jeetu didn’t want Ayan to leave. At least, not yet. He knew probably Ayan would be fine, he was mature enough to take care of himself but somehow, a part of his heart was scared.

To let Ayan go.

The thought of Nakul being attacked hadn’t left Jeetu’s mind and to add up Ayan was threatened too. Ayan was not safe. And Jeetu couldn’t let him be like that.

“You shouldn’t be alone, Ayan,” Jeetu worded his thoughts. “At least not after whatever happened tonight.”

Ayan was confused. He didn’t get what Jeetu had wanted to imply. He was too fragile right now to understand things.

“What do you mean, Jitendra?” 

“Can you not call me Jitendra? I’d like it if you call me Jeetu, I guess.” Jeetu knew this was beside the point of conversation they had been having, but  _ Jitendra _ made him conscious. 

He was used to being called  _ Jeetu _ and he was more than comfortable with it. The last time someone had called him Jitendra- apart from Ayan- was some nice years ago during the first month of his job as a faculty.

He looked at Ayan while he said an ‘Okay’ and then continued.

“As unusual as it may sound, I can’t get the fact that both you and your brother were attacked tonight. You aren’t safe Ayan. And I don’t know but you shan't be staying alone.” 

“But I have my gun and know self-defence. I’ll take care.” Ayan showed Jeetu the gun fastened to his belt.

“No, you had the gun when you were attacked. That’s beside the point,” Jeetu scolded. “There is something in me that wants you to be safe.” His voice was softer now.

“Where do I go?” Ayan raised a query. “Believe me Jeetu, I’ll be fine.”

_ Jeetu. _

The name felt so beautiful. It made Jeetu fluster with happiness. There was a tingling feeling attached. Jeetu’s name felt more profound coming from Ayan’s mouth.

“See, I understand that you are a strong police officer, but please,” Jeetu spoke, breaking out from reverie. 

“I-”

“No Ayan, please!” Jeetu exclaimed.

“Where do you expect me to stay?”

A silence.

Thoughts?

Jeetu had no answer but whatever he said was true. He cared.

Even if it hadn’t been long since he met Ayan, his body and mind and heart and soul had somehow come to care for him in unknown ways. Jeetu let that feeling voice up in his subconscious unlike most of his thoughts or feelings.

But right now, right then, Jeetu had to answer Ayan. He had to let Ayan know the answer. A friend’s house? But the attacker would know that, won’t he? Jeetu thought for a while until Ayan tapped his shoulder twice to call him.

“Believe me, I’ll be sa-”

“You can stay at my place for the night.” Jeetu cut Ayan off. He was sure. All he wanted right now was Ayan’s safety. “I mean if you have no issue.”

“I… I mean, I don’t but, it would be an issue for y-”

“It isn’t. Your safety is the most important right now, for both- Nakul and me.”

“You sure?” Ayan asked.

“Completely.”

~~~

After hailing an auto, Jeetu and Ayan reached Jeetu’s apartment. It was slightly messy, principally because Jeetu hadn't been expecting a guest for the night. 

The house wasn’t too huge but neither too small. A moderate size where Jeetu had been living peacefully all these years.

The drawing-room was nicely maintained. From the entrance, one could see the TV set and right opposite to it was the couch, a yellow coloured one. It had cushions in various colours. In between the couch and the TV, was a wooden centre table, which had a plant on it and a pile of newspaper.

Besides the TV was a book stand with various magazines and what looked like some study material. The house had a nice vibe to it with so many plants and lights. It was warm enough for someone to feel comfortable and cool enough for not suffocating. The wall behind the couch had picture frames that had abstract art and a few pictures too. 

The pictures featured Jeetu with different people. Probably his friends from college, because Jeetu looked too young. Some pictures had him with his family, his parents smiling wide while Jeetu had a little less wide smile. The pictures made the room more homely.

The wall adjacent to the picture-and-art wall had some film posters framed. The films dated back to the 60s and 70s. The wall had posters of Charlie Chaplin films to Hrishikesh Mukherjee films. From Robert Downey Jr. to Dilip Kumar, every artist sung and unsung had a place on the walls.

A lot of films were Chaplin films, The Circus, The Kid, The Great Dictator and a few more. Jeetu also had films like Madhumati, Daud, Katha, Dil Se and the list could go on. His taste in films was vast, and any person could see that.

“Those are some of my favourite films,” Jeetu said breaking the silence when he saw Ayan staring at the posters.

“You look like a Chaplin fan.” 

“I am. A huge one.” Ayan smiled at that. “Have a seat, please,” Jeetu told Ayan as he went inside to get a towel and some clothes.

Ayan went to sit on the wooden chair of the dining table because he didn’t want to stain Jeetu’s couch with  _ blood _ . The table had a lot of papers lying there along with a physics book.  _ ‘H.C. Verma’s Concepts of Physics’ _ the title read. He had heard about the book somewhere. 

There was a yellow notebook on the desk which had a ribbon attached to it. 

Ayan flipped the cover over,  _ ‘To be better, is to start where it hurt,’  _ the first sentence read. It was enough to intrigue Ayan enough to flip to the next page. Ayan put his fingers on the page, ready to flip to the next when he heard Jeetu’s voice.

“That’s not supposed to be read, I am sorry,” He announced. 

Ayan pulled his fingers away and stood up. “I am sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. You can do whatever you want, touch or read anything apart from that notebook. I hope you understand.” Jeetu told Ayan.

“Of course I do. I am sorry.”

Jeetu shook his head. He gave Ayan a towel and a set of new clothes. 

“I guess my clothes won't fit you, I like wearing super loose clothes sometimes- oversized as the  _ fashionistas _ call it nowadays- these shall fit you,” Jeetu said. “Freshen up, you need it.”

Ayan nodded and Jeetu showed him the way to the bathroom where he quickly went in.

Jeetu returned to the living room and quickly stacked up the papers and placed the things properly. He tried cleaning up the room as swiftly as he could. Finally, he took the notebook and read the first line that he had written: 

_ ‘To be better, is to start where it hurt’.  _

He exhaled deeply. The words brought back memories.

Not always pretty.

He took it to his room and placed it in the drawer and looked it up. He knew Ayan would never open the book again, he trusted him but locking it up made him content. It locked up unwanted feelings along with the notebook.

Jeetu went to the kitchen and quickly peeled some potatoes and decided to make a little dinner for Ayan because he was sure Ayan had had no dinner.

On the other hand, Ayan entered the bathroom and undressed, saw a little mirror in the bathroom and stared at himself through the mirror. He saw scars on his face, band-aids and stitches. He wasn’t proud of the recent ones, they were not scars of bravery but scars of cowardness.

He paid the fees for being a  _ coward _ .

He hated looking at himself and thus looked away.

Ayan turned the shower on and drenched himself in water. He rubbed off the dried blood on his body and also the dried up paint. He cleaned himself up. The warm water made him feel better. 

Ayan shut his eyes, wanting to find peace but shot them open the next second. The snaps of the incidents that took this night were freely roaming in his head and every time he shut his eyes they would haunt him.

Ayan decided to lock up the feeling of a void in his mind. He decided to at least try to be free.

The water was turning warmer every passing minute and it was directly attacking his wounds. It hurt but Ayan weirdly liked it. 

Liked the feeling of warm water burning his skin.

The cuts, the wounds, the stitches, everything was stinging, but Ayan quite liked it.

He stayed there for some time longer until he no longer felt the sting, it felt numb now. It bored Ayan and then, Ayan turned the shower off.

He wiped himself dry and wore the clothes- a light blue pullover and a pair of black sweatpants. It fit him perfectly. Ayan was surprised to know Jeetu liked wearing clothes so huge.

_ Jeetu. _

The name felt nice on his mind. 

Ayan worded it.

_ “Jeetu.” _

It felt homely. It felt delicate.

Ayan thoughts went back to this morning. The first time he met  _ Jeetu _ . It wasn’t even twenty-four hours into meeting this man and he had made a place in Ayan’s mind. 

On the good side.

Which was way too difficult.

And Jeetu was successful.

Jeetu cared for Ayan more than a random friend would do. His words rung in Ayan head like his favourite song- on repeat.

It felt pleasant. 

Ayan unlocked the door of the bathroom and stepped out, his mind still filled with the thoughts of Jeetu.

As Ayan walked towards the living room, he saw Jeetu adjusting a plate on the table. “What’s all this?” Ayan asked.

“Food, I guess.” 

“No, I mean, why did you get this?” 

“Because, Ayan, I know you haven’t had your dinner,” Jeetu said. “Have it now.”

“I can’t,” Ayan muttered. “I am not hungry.” He wasn’t lying though, he didn’t have the urge or the energy to eat. He didn’t want to eat. 

Jeetu went back to the kitchen and came back with freshly made Rotis. Ayan didn’t want to be a burden on Jeetu. He was more than thankful for bringing him to his home. He couldn’t be more trouble anymore.

“Jeetu can you not do this.” Ayan started. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You aren’t, Ayan,” Jeetu said and sat on one of the chairs of the dining table. He looked up at Ayan and widened his eyes.

“Why is your face all so red? What did you do?” He stood up again and came to stand right opposite to Ayan. 

Ayan recalled the warm water on his face, the stinging feeling and the little pain it caused. “I… I don’t really know,” He lied.

Jeetu sighed and went inside only to be back with a first-aid box. He made Ayan sit on a chair and sat next to him. Jeetu undid the old dressing and patted it dry with a hand towel. He pulled out some cream and started applying it on Ayan’s wounds, simultaneously blowing air so it wouldn’t hurt.

Ayan recalled this proximity to the one they had in the hospital, not long ago. It was in a similar space and Ayan didn’t mind it. Jeetu did the dressing and stood up to go back. Ayan already missed his touch on his skin. 

He missed the feeling way too much.

Jeetu came back and sat besides Ayan and began serving the food.

“Jeetu please, I don’t want to eat.”

“Eat to give me company? I didn’t have my dinner too anyways,” Jeetu said. “It's been long since I had a company for dinner.”

Ayan smiled and took a bite of his served food. He knew why Jeetu was doing this. He knew why Jeetu asked to give him company yet he didn’t know. The food tasted delicious. He hadn’t had good food for some time now, primarily because he would stay in the police station most of the time and had almost forgotten how home-cooked food tasted.

He thought a compliment would be a good thing to do. “It’s great.” Jeetu smiled in reply.

The dinner was mostly in silence apart from the time when Ayan asked Jeetu about his obsessions with films and Jeetu had laughed about it but then proceeded to explain how much he loved watching them and how they helped him to transport to a distinct world altogether.

After dinner was done, Jeetu showed Ayan to his bedroom and asked him to rest. 

The bedroom was well-lit and well-ventilated. With beige as the base colour of his room, Jeetu had managed to decorate the room quite beautifully. Right beside the window was the queen-sized bed and pillows. On the wall above the bed was a huge painting. Some abstract design on it. It had cool colours and was calming to look at. At one side was the bedside table with a lamp and a bottle of water. 

The room also had a study table on the other side, next to the cupboard. The study table had a laptop on it and a lot of stationery of all sorts. From pens and pencils to brushes, printed tapes and fancy notebooks to things Aayn couldn’t even put a name to. 

“You sleep here for the night,” Jeetu commanded. “Rest well, okay?”

“Where would you sleep?” Ayan questioned.

“I’ve to check a lot of papers for starters now, so I ain't sleeping any time soon.” Jeetu grinned.

“What after that?”

“I’ll figure out.”

“But-”

“Ayan please,” Jeetu shushed Ayan. “You need to rest.”

Ayan nodded but still didn’t move a bit. Jeetu exhaled deeply, held Ayan by his arms and took him to the bed. “Sleep!” he commanded. 

Ayan sat there looking at Jeetu, not flinching a bit. “Urgh! Why don’t you sleep?”

Ayan looked down at his feet and then looked up again after a few seconds. “Jeetu, why do you care so much for me?” he asked again.

“Don’t you think you ask that question a lot?” Jeetu was right. But Ayan wasn’t wrong either.

“But I am right. Why?” 

Jeetu groaned. “I don’t know, Ayan. I really don’t. I would have answered your question if I knew, right?”

“Yeah, right,” Ayan said.

“Now, I guess, it’s time you sleep,” Jeetu said.

When Ayan didn’t move again, Jeetu tucked him to bed like how a mother would tuck their child to bed. Jeetu switched the lights off except for the lamp and put the blanket over Ayan. The blanket was soft and fury which felt cosy. 

Jeetu stood up to leave but was stopped when Ayan held his hand and pulled him a bit. Jeetu passed a  _ ‘what’s it?’ _ to Ayan whilst he sat down on the bed next to him.

“I know it is foolish to ask after all that you’ve been doing for me, but, can you just stay a little while?” Ayan asked in the smallest voice.

Jeetu looked at their entwined hands then looked up in Ayan’s eyes which twinkled like the stars-bright yet tiny- and smiled.

_ “Sure.” _

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a reward, so you can either comment or make a ‘Mai tera’ edit for me because I heard the song on repeat while writing this one and now I feel 'Akela'🥺
> 
> Bye-bye.


	3. To lose, to fight, to love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorrow. Comfort. Hope. Stars. And a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR✨ (4days late, sorry.)  
> Yes, I am alive. Yes, I wrote somehow. Yes, I have not abandoned it.
> 
> I have been very low on motivation lately. I don't even know why this is happening. If you opened to read this chapter, thank you so much for it. Thank you for bearing with me. Thank you for not already killing me.
> 
> Also, thank you to everyone who DMed me and checked on me, it means a lot :)  
> Thank you to all those who pushed me to write this(in a healthy way)
> 
> But mostly, thank you to the one who let me know it was okay to not feel up to the mark for days. That, it was okay if I couldn't word things. You know who you are, you mean the world to me and as much I hate you, I love you more🌻❤
> 
> Well, read it if you like. And I am extremely sorry once again.😔

The morning came early for Ayan. He heard the opening and shutting of his room repeatedly. And he hated it. Hated when someone would invade his privacy and sleep when he had been in his room.

_ Jeetu’s.  _ He recalled.

He soon realised he wasn’t in his room but Jeetu’s. He had the right to get in and out of the room after all. He wasn’t invading Ayan’s privacy anyway but maybe Ayan was. 

Ayan was still in the bed. His eyes closed but the ears widely awake. It was most likely that he would have gone back to sleep if not the loud banging of different stuff.

Books, some more books, some pens being dropped, a heavy box and then a human soon. The human falling thud eventually woke him up. He sat on the bed, startled.

His eyes took precisely seven seconds to adjust to the bright light, coming from the window. His eyes then moved to where the sound had come from. The ground. 

He saw Jeetu lying there, moaning in pain. He hadn’t noticed Ayan had woken up yet. “Are you fine?” Ayan finally spoke up.

Jeetu looked up at Ayan. “Uh...I am sorry to wake you up.” He looked guilty. He tried standing up but his hand fell on the bunch of pens that he had dropped earlier. 

Jeetu fell again. He groaned loud enough for Ayan to be scared.

“What the-” He whined.

Ayan looked down at him, “Are you fine?”

“I don’t like falling, so I guess not so fine,” Jeetu said, rubbing his elbow.

“Yeah,” Ayan said. He quietly kept his feet off the bed and stood up. He walked towards Jeetu and stretched his hand, wanting to help him. “Help?”

Jeetu looked up at Ayan and smiled. “Yes, please.”

Jeetu gave his hands in Ayan’s and with his support, stood up. Jeetu noticed how Ayan’s biceps bulged even through the pullover. He had a nice build.

As both, the men stood on their twos, Jeetu thanked Ayan and picked up the scattered pens.

“What had you been searching for?” Ayan asked.

“Question papers,” Jeetu kept the pens in the pen stand. “They are sample papers; I had to submit them today. Crap.”

“You found them?” Ayan asked.

“No.” Jeetu looked down, saddened.

Ayan looked away not knowing how to respond. His eyes fell on a bunch of papers, on the chair near the cupboard. “What are those papers?” He asked Jeetu.

Jeetu followed Ayan’s gaze. He walked to the chair and took the papers in his hands. While flipping through the papers he realized they were the indeed the papers he had been looking for. 

“They are the question papers!” Jeetu exclaimed. He looked happy and relieved. Ayan smiled to himself. It was oddly satisfying to see Jeetu smile.

“Well, good for you.” He said.

Jeetu grinned and stacked the papers together. He soon left the room but came back with a set of clothes. A sweatshirt and a pair of joggers.

“Here. Take this,” he began. “Take a shower and then I’ll re-do the dressing.”

“I can do it on my own,” Ayan said.

“Shut up and quickly take a shower, I need to leave,” Jeetu said and handed Ayan the clothes. “You were kind enough to make me late yesterday as it is. I might want to reach on time today.”

“Exactly,” Ayan began. “I can do my dressing. Just let me know where...”

Jeetu pulled Ayan by his arms and took him to the bathroom. He then pushed him in the bathroom. “Quick!”

Ayan had to listen to Jeetu. For once he was listening to someone other than his dad or his instructors. 

He was someone who wouldn’t even listen to his seniors some days but right now, right then, he was being the 8-year-old who had to listen to his mother or else they would be scolded.

He took a quick shower unlike the night before and got out of the bathroom, trying to dry his hair. He saw Jeetu had been waiting for him with the first aid kit and two cups of coffee. 

Ayan stood in front of Jeetu. He liked how tall he looked and smirked.

Jeetu didn’t notice the smirk and made Ayan sit on the chair and he sat on the other. Jeetu calmly undid the previous dressing and re-did it. Every time Ayan hissed in pain, Jeetu would stop and blow air at the wound.

They were soon done and Jeetu finished his last sip of coffee and got ready. He took his sweater and wore it over the shirt, which was worn on a warmer. Delhi Decembers do this to you. 

He sat on the couch to wear his shoes and spoke up again. “Ayan?” He called.

“Hmm...”

The spare keys are on the table and I’ve kept your breakfast on the kitchen slab. The lunch is in the fridge so just heat it before having it, okay?”

“You didn’t have to...” Ayan started but was cut down by Jeetu, abruptly.

  
  


“I had to!” He smiled.

Ayan smiled back at Jeetu.

Jeetu was almost leaving when he turned around, “Ayan, I mean, I don’t know if you will agree or not, but it would be good if you don’t go to the police station,” Jeetu said. “You should take rest today. You are clearly exhausted. I just need you to be safe.”

Ayan didn’t reply but just nodded. Jeetu understood Ayan’s state and decided to leave. “So...Bye,” He said.

“Bye!”

Ayan stood at the same place, unmoved even after Jeetu left.

_ I just need you to be safe _

_ Safe _

The words rang in his head repeatedly; To shut the subconscious up, Ayan gulped the piping hot cup of coffee down his throat.

Yes, it was burning, but he didn’t care at all. What mattered was, technically, nothing.

_ Safe _

  
  


_ Safe _

Why did he care? Why was it triggering him? Though it was a positive trigger, it still scared him. 

He was scared because he feared for Jeetu. The last time someone said this-apart from his parents- he lost them. 

They must be fine now though, doing great, but, back then, Ayan was hurt emotionally as much as the other one was hurt physically.

_ Shut Up! Shut up!  _ He needed to stop overthinking or maybe just thinking in general right now. He had to divert his mind.

As every person would do, Ayan pulled his phone out and started fidgeting with it. Ayan noticed the film posters on the adjacent wall once again. He liked how Jeetu was happy to show his love for films. It was cute.

The time passed quickly and Ayan realised that the visiting hours of the ICU had begun. He was dying to meet Nakul and finally, he could.

~~~

Ayan soon reached the hospital and rushed towards the ICU. He was allowed to meet Nakul today. Ayan noticed Nakul was still unconscious. His body was pale which was unlikely for Nakul.

Amongst both the brothers, Nakul had been the more hyperactive and prolific one but today he was contradicting his traits. 

It broke Ayan’s heart. 

He felt incomplete today.

Ayan took Nakul’s hands in his and stared at it. There was a time they would fight as wrestlers would, but then the next moment would be best friends. 

It was good fun to confuse and annoy people sometimes.

Today took Ayan back in time when he had been 13 years and Nakul had just turned 10. Their dad was hospitalized and everyone had become so tense. 

He remembered dad coming back early from an expedition but with so many bruises and cuts and blood loss.

Today he felt something similar but the only difference being that Nakul was way more serious. 

A part of him wanted to inform  _ Maa-Papa  _ about Nakul but a part of him didn’t want it to happen because he didn’t want to scare them yet.

Ayan sat there for a long time with their hands entwined. He let out an emotional smile. No matter what, where, when, he knew they would always be strong to fight.

This one time, maybe, Nakul wasn’t so strong, but Ayan was. 

And he would fight. 

He would not let this go. 

He would leave no stone unturned to get Anshu Naharia arrested.

It was a long stay in the ICU with his brother for now and Ayan decided to move away. He had no mood to let the time pass without him doing a thing. 

He stood up after placing a soft, chaste kiss on Nakul’s forehead implying that he respected him as much as he loved him, and moved out.

As Ayan walked out of the hospital, he pulled his phone out from the pocket and swiftly dialled a number.

_ Mayank. _

Mayank was whom Ayan was the closest to in the police station. They knew and understood each other as no would do. Having a similar upbringing and a similar thought-process, helped the boys vibe onto not one but many things.

While Ayan had been a short-tempered man, Mayank had been calmer. Well, there had been minute variances in things, but, the overall people that they were was more put together and stable.

Ayan knew he could trust Mayank more than anyone else and the instinct had urged him to call Mayank up.

“Good Morning, Sir,” Mayank’s voice greeted him.

“Good Morning!” Ayan greeted back. Their relationship had better been formal. “Mayank, I need you to meet me right now. It is urgent,” he told him.

“Sure Sir. I had been wanting to talk to you too,” Mayank replied. “It is important.”

Ayan had no contact with anyone from the police station since last night after he left. He prayed all was okay.

“Fine, but, I am not coming to the police station today,” Ayan let him know. “Just not feeling it right.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Meet me. I’ll let you know,” he said.

“I’ll be at your home soon,” Mayank replied.

Ayan realised that he was not staying at his house and what a mess his house was. He had to let Mayank know about the venue change. 

“I am not at my house,” he let out, unwillingly. “I’ll send you the location.”

“Okay, Sir,” Mayank asked no questions and was about to hang up when Ayan called him out.

“Yes Sir?”

“Can you do me a favour?” Ayan asked.

“Sure, Sir. What is it?” 

“I need you to go to my house first and get it cleaned, please,” Ayan said.

“Cleaned?” Evidently confused Mayank, asked.

“Uh...yes. It...it’s...it’s not how...” Ayan faltered. He took a breath and then continued, “There's blood everywhere. Nakul was tried to be killed last night. It was Anshu Naharia,” he confessed.

“What!” Mayank exclaimed. “Where is Nakul? Is he fine?”

“He is in the ICU. Unconscious. I wanted to talk regarding this,” Ayan answered.

“Take care, Sir. I’ll be there soon.” Mayank said.

“I need another help,” Ayan said.

“Sure.”

Ayan then went ahead and told Mayank where his spare keys were and then told him to also bring his clothes here; where the bag was, some other stuff to bring and his gun, foremost.

He also asked him to get the FIR register because they had to file one against Anshu.

Mayank agreed and hung up. Ayan quickly booked a cab and reached back to Jeetu’s place.

~~~

It was long since he returned from the hospital and was bored of touring the home again and again. The wait for Mayank became impatient now.

Ayan now sat at Jeetu’s desk and the keen observer that he was, started to look at things. Jeetu had a huge collection of all kinds of pens, pencils, weird stationery stuff he couldn’t put a name to, just like the morning.

His eyes travelled through the desk and then went to the picture frame where he saw a very young version of Jeetu with a bunch of other people.

Ayan had noticed many frames in the hall, above the dining table but nowhere did he find these people. This picture looked from Jeetu’s college days.

All the people had fun in the picture. It was a typical college picture; many boys, shaggy, unironed clothes, ruffled hair and tension-free faces.

Ayan’s eyes were now looking at Jeetu and he saw how Jeetu smiled at him.

_ At the camera,  _ Ayan reminded himself.

He stared at the picture for a few more seconds, smiled and then looked down at the desk again.

Ayan saw a pile of books and was astounded to see the number of books there were. Jeetu was a complete nerd and it was clear. Amongst the books, he found another notebook. It was very thin compared to the huge books on the desk.

He recalled it was the same notebook Ayan had laid his hands on, the previous night. He had not seen the notebook after he returned from the shower. 

And he had even forgotten about it. Until now.

Jeetu had asked him not to read the notebook but it was catchy. It was wrapped in lace and looked beautiful. Anyone who saw the book would want o read it.

Ayan luckily had got an exclusive sneak in it. He was able to read the first page before Jeetu had stopped him. 

He read the line:

_ ‘To be better, is to start where it hurt’. _

It was intriguing enough for, at least him, to flip to the next page and read. 

Right now, once again, his hands were on the edge of the page and he could turn the page over. No one would ever know. It would be his secret.

And he was Ayan Ranjan.

What could stop him anyway?

The doorbell.

The doorbell rang and Ayan had to put the book down, carefully to where it was kept and walked to the living room to open the door.

Mayank stood there with a huge bag on his back and another one in his hand, both of which had Ayan’s clothes. The other free hand had the FIR register, he supposed and Mayank was trying hard to not let his specs fall off.

Ayan took the bag from Mayank’s hand and helped him get in the house. He offered Mayank some water from the jug of water on the dining table and sat opposite to him.

Ayan had asked Mayank to get most of the clothes because he could not go back to that house. Not alone at least. 

He was used to seeing blood, but this felt weird and pathetic. It was his brother’s blood. How could he? He would feel disgusted and a coward there.

He wasn’t going to stay here either. He, at the most, would spend another night at Jeetu’s place and then find shelter at an inn before he got a good place to rent. 

Ayan also had no plans of letting Nakul stay here, in Delhi. Once Nakul was allowed to travel, Ayan was going to fly him back to Lucknow. His office had a branch there, so that would not be an issue. He just couldn’t risk Nakul’s life anymore.

“Sir, the house will be soon cleaned up entirely,” Mayank said after finishing the glass of water.

Ayan nodded. He fidgeted with his hands, again.

Mayank must have noticed that because he handed Ayan the register and gave him a pen to write. Ayan wordlessly opened the register, filled the required information, and filed a report.

“I am sending you a call recording,” Ayan said, taking his phone out. “It’s the call I had with Anshu last night. It has proof. Anshu admitted that he tried to kill Nakul.”

Mayank nodded.

“What exactly happened yesterday?” Mayank asked.

Ayan looked at Mayank and with much hesitation, began, “When I reached home last night, I saw blood at my doorstep. I found Nakul crying for help, once I went inside. The house was covered in blood and Nakul was stabbed,” Ayan took a deep breath and continued, “I called the ambulance and he was operated on but is still unconscious.”

“I am sorry,” Mayank said, not exactly knowing what to reply.

Ayan nodded. After a few moments of silence, Ayan even told Mayank about the car incident and how Ayan was attacked too.

“The car is still there, take it to the garage.”

“Okay, sir.”

“You wanted to say something important, right?” Ayan asked soon after he recollected the conversation they had.

“Yes, I did.” Mayank looked tense now. His face turned pale. His back had been hunched all this while, but the moment Ayan asked about what Mayank wanted to talk, he straightened up.

“Are you fine?” Ayan asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Then, tell me. What is it?”

Mayank closed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and held it. He slowly opened his eyes and let out the held breath.

“Sir,” Mayank was still hesitating. “Sir, Officer Varun Gupta was shot dead last night!” Mayank finally blurts out.

Ayan froze in his place. He couldn’t digest what he just heard. It was difficult to let it soak in. 

Officer Varun was the most disciplined officer he ever came across. He was a loyal man of his words. A gem of a person is what you would call him. Ayan could feel his stomach churn.

He recalled Varun had a 7-year-old daughter. He had met his family a couple of months ago when he was invited for a Diwali dinner.

He had loved the food and had been praising it the entire time. Varun’s daughter, Dhriti and Ayan had become friends that day. 

_ I like your moustache,  _ she had said.  _ They look like my grandfather’s and both of you look very nice. _

It was a happy family.

Ayan could see Varun’s smiling face in front of his eyes. More than that, he saw his daughter’s and wife’s face. A happy family, now, shattered. It was too much to take. He was lucky to have not lost anyone from his family. (The closest was yesterday when he had almost lost Nakul, but he was alive, unlike Varun.)

Ayan cleared his throat of the lump that was slowly forming. “How did this happen?” He asked Mayank.

“We are trying to figure out, sir,” He replied. “The only thing we know is that last night he left the police station around 10:30, and around 10:50, Aditi  _ Ji-  _ Varun Sir’s wife and others from their neighbourhood heard a gunshot only to find, once they came out, that the gun was shot at Varun.”

“CCTV Footage?” Ayan asked.

“Obvious thing, sir. It was erased.”

Ayan nodded. “Was Varun checked? Did you find anything?”

“Nothing sir. But we are sure there has to be something to this. There can’t be a plot hole here. Varun was surely killed for a motive.” Mayank replied.

“I agree. Varun knew something crucial,” Ayan said. “Was the bullet extracted fr...”

“It was extracted and had been sent for examination. We shall get the results by late evening at the most.” Mayank replied, cutting Ayan down.

Both men sat in silence for a few seconds before Ayan started, “How are Dhriti and Aditi?”

“Not in a great state, sir,” Mayank replied, bowing his head down.

“I will go to meet them. Right Now” Ayan commanded and Mayank agreed.

Ayan went to the room to get changed into formals. He returned, Mayank handed him his gun and both the men darted out of the house.

Mayank left for the police station while Ayan moved towards Varun’s house.

On reaching the house, he was greeted by a woman he didn’t recognise. He soon realised that there were men and women at the house who had reached Aditi and Dhriti to console and comfort them. 

He spotted the mother-daughter duo sitting in a deserted corner of the house, holding on to each other, crying without stopping.

Ayan couldn’t gather the courage to step any further. He had half a mind to turn around and run. What would he say?  _ I am sorry. I understand how you feel.  _

Lies. 

He could never understand how they felt. One of them lost her husband and the other, her father, the person every child looks up to. He felt small here, unwanted.

He glanced at them, and saw Dhriti’s eyes, they were red. She had been crying for way too long. He would stay for Dhriti at least. She had nobody to cry to. Ayan would be by their side for now.

With much firmness, Ayan walked up to them. He sat on his knees and caressed Dhriti’s head comfortingly. She shot her head up and flinched; her eyes had fear in them for the first 4 seconds. Once she realised who had caressed her, she let loose of her mother and sprang into Ayan’s arms. 

She wept. 

A lot.

And Ayan let her be.

Without speaking a word. They both stayed in the comforting position for a long time. Ayan would not mind letting her there for as long as she wished.

Aditi had stopped crying and now looked at them. It calmed her a bit that her daughter was finding solace in someone. If not forever, she had someone right now, at the most vulnerable state.

“I will be here forever. Whenever she needs me.” Ayan said as if reading Aditi’s thoughts.

Dhriti let go of the embrace but still stated in Ayan’s arms. She looked at Ayan and spoke, “Will  _ Papa _ never come back?” her voice sounded brittle.

It broke Ayan to see Dhriti in the state she was in right now. He had no answer. Saying a yes would break the little girl in hundreds of pieces and saying a no would be lying. He didn’t’ know what to say. He kept mum and didn’t speak a word.

Dhriti took Ayan’s face in her little hands and said, “ _ Dadi _ says,” she said, looking towards an elderly woman sitting beside Aditi. “He became a star. But the stars come only in the night and I am scared of the dark.  _ Papa ko pata nahi tha kya?” _

Every word Dhriti spoke, left Ayan at a loss of words. “ _ Papa aapko darr nahi lagne denge,”  _ Ayan said softly. “He will take care of you.”

“ _ Pakka?” _

Ayan nodded.

Dhriti hugged him back. She wept again until finally, sleep took over her soon after. Once he had tucked Dhriti to bed with the help of Aditi, they were in the room alone- Ayan, Aditi and Dhriti. 

Dhriti had been fast asleep and Ayan wanted to speak to Aditi without disturbance, this was the perfect time he thought. “Aditi  _ Ji,”  _ He called her. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

She nodded and motioned him to sit on the bed next to Dhriti. Ayan was sitting at Dhriti’s foot while Aditi was near her head, caressing it lovingly. 

Ayan took a deep breath and started, “I can never understand what you are going through, I don't want to state comforting lies, but I know all of this is hurting.” He looked at Dhriti. “She lost her father, you lost our husband, I am sorry for it, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to,” Aditi said. “They say actions speak louder than words, you proved it. Thank you for being there for Dhriti. That’s enough for me.” She smiled.

Ayan nodded and looked down.

“You want to ask anything else?” Aditi asked.

Ayan looked up to face her. He looked in her eyes for the first time since the time he walked in today. “Do you suspect someone?” He finally asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Anything suspicious in the last few days?”

“Not really.”

“Did Varun know anything that could help expose anyone, any scam, anything Aditi, anything you could remember?” Ayan questioned.

“I can’t recall.” She said.

Ayan nodded once again and looked back at Dhriti, he placed his hand on her feet and started massaging them lightly.

“Ayan!” Aditi exclaimed suddenly. “Varun had been speaking about exposing a politician. Not so sure, but yes, he did tell me. He had this pen drive with him for the last few weeks. He even took it yesterday” 

Ayan’s eyes shone in hope. “He was robbed of the pen drive. That would be great proof. It is a valid reason for shooting someone.” Ayan sighed. “Anything else? Any name?”

“He would keep saying Anshu Naharia’s name. I know who he is but...”

“But he is not a politician, which clearly means that Anshu is involved with a politician.” Ayan cut Aditi down.

“Exactly!” Aditi exclaimed. “Police officers are killed for exposing the truth while wicked politicians are worshipped. Irony! And we call India the biggest democracy.” She let out a humourless chuckle.

  
  


“I assure you Aditi, Anshu Naharia won't be spared,” Ayan said. “And I will expose the politician too. We are in this together, Aditi. Anshu attempted to kill my brother and murdered your husband, they won’t be let loose.” 

“Thank you, Ayan.” She smiled genuinely.

Both of them left the room letting Dhriti sleep in peace. Ayan looked at the elderly woman who Dhriti had called  _ Dadi _ . She still had tear tracks on her cheeks; Ayan walked towards her and sat down beside her.

“ _ Namaste Chachi! _ ” he said while touching her feet for blessings. She blessed him and made him sit next to her.

“Thank you for what you did with Dhriti,” she said. “The poor girl had been crying since yesterday.”

“Please don’t say thank you. I might not be your son, but will you treat me like one?” Ayan asked.

“Yes! I will!” she smiled as she said those words.

Ayan smiled back. “Then, I promise you, this son shall get justice for the other.”

She nodded. Ayan took her blessings once again before leaving. As he left, Aditi looked at him with hope in her eyes, and he was sure he would not step back without fulfilling the promises he just made.

Ayan sat in the cab and soon received a call from Mayank.

“Yes Mayank, tell me?” He asked.

“Sir, I have the reports from the lab.” He said.

“What do they say?” Ayan asked.

“It's shocking!” he exclaimed. After a moment’s pause, he continued, “It says that the bullet used to shoot Varun Sir was fired from one of the guns used by the police. A gun which only the police force has access to.”

~~~

Jeetu cleaned the living room and finally sat down on the couch. When he had come back, he found the house empty. A part of him knew Ayan would leave, but a part of him wanted him to stay.

But he noticed two bags which looked like they had Ayan’s clothes. He was oddly happy. But he had his own set of questions. He put them aside for now and made some dinner for both, Ayan and him.

He was almost done when he heard the clicking of the door and knew Ayan was home. Jeetu turned off the stove and walked towards the living room to greet Ayan but decided against it once he saw a frown on his face.

Jeetu noticed that Ayan had not yet realised Jeetu was standing in front of him, so he went back to the kitchen. Ayan walked in a minute later and was quick to realise a presence in the kitchen.

Once he saw Jeetu, he smiled and greeted him.

“The smile is fake, Ayan,” Jeetu began. “What’s wrong?” 

Ayan didn’t want Jeetu to stress, obviously, so he didn’t say anything. Jeetu understood that Ayan was in no mood to talk about it so he diverted the conversation. 

“I saw you brought in bags,” Jeetu said. “Were you comfortable in that house?”

“I didn’t go there, I sent someone, they’ve cleaned it probably,” Ayan replied. “But I can’t go back to the house, I’ll shift somewhere soon. I’ll stay in some cheap hotel until I find a place to rent. And once Nakul is allowed to travel, I’ll send him back to Lucknow. His office has a branch there.”

Jeetu frowned. “Ayan,” He said. “You can stay here. I think you should stay here.” He suggested.

“I am being a burden to you,” Ayan spoke. “We don’t even know each other but thanks for helping. I’ll rent a place soon.”

“Ouch! That hurt!” Jeetu dramatically placed his hand on his heart to fake a heart attack. “Oh, God!”

Ayan chuckled. “Jeetu, I can’t believe you are such a drama queen.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? I didn’t become the governor of Dramatics Club of IIT Kharagpur by fluke,” he stood straight now. “I have to show it off!”

Ayan chuckled again.

“Well, at least I made you smile,” Jeetu said.

“Fine, you did.”

“But I am still hurt,” Jeetu said.

“For what?”

“You don’t consider me a friend,” he made a puppy face.

Ayan smiled. “Isn’t it true anyway? We hardly know each other,” Ayan shrugged.

“Duh, if that’s the problem, I know the best friendship starters and the best place.”

“What do...” Jeetu left Ayan’s sentence hanging in between. He returned with an emergency light but it was softer than the usuals. 

“What do...” Ayan started again but Jeetu left the room again to go to the kitchen.

“Give me 10 minutes, I’ll be done,” he shouted from the kitchen. “You might want to change into something more comfortable till then.”

“Okay!” Ayan agreed and went to the bedroom to change into a sweater and sweatpants. For some reason, he took his gun back to the living room. 

Jeetu was back by then with a flask and two cups in hand. “Best Friendship starter-  _ Chai! _ ” He smiled.

“ _ Chai?”  _ Ayan asked.

Jeetu just simply nodded in a reply.

“Let’s go!” Jeetu commanded.

“Where?” Ayan asked but Jeetu ignored him so Ayan had to follow.

Jeetu had loved this place forever. They ascended the flight of stairs and were now standing at the terrace door. “Can you open it?” Jeetu asked Ayan.

Jeetu had a flask in one hand while 2 cups in the second; Ayan on the other hand only had the soft emergency light in one of his hands and hence agreed to open the gate.

Jeetu shouted as he walked to the terrace, “THIS IS THE BEST PLACE EVER!”

Ayan smiled looking at him. It had been long since he had so much fun, it had been really long since he had been just happy without worries, and it had been way too long since he had been on a terrace. 

Ayan would go on the terrace at nights, back in Lucknow and sit for hours looking at the sky, munching on some  _ mathris _ his mother made. He beamed at the memory.

Jeetu on the other hand would come here often and sit for hours drinking tea from his flask, thinking about everything and nothing at all. Every time he had been very proud of one of his students or at times when he had not felt put together, this was his escape. 

But he had always come here alone, it was so much like a secret, today was the first time he invited someone on the terrace with him. 

Tea had been a friendship starter many times but the terrace was never one of them, until now.

He seated himself near the bars. It was clean and the view was beautiful. Who doesn’t like beautiful views after all?

He called Ayan and both of them sat together, drinking tea. Ayan switched on the emergency light to light up the place a little.

“It tastes amazing,” Ayan complimented, after taking a sip of the tea.

“I know.”

Ayan chuckled at that. He took another sip and closed his eyes.

“Delhi looks so clean from here,” Jeetu commented. “As if it is not polluted.”

Ayan opened his eyes and followed Jeetu’s gaze. “It does look pretty.” He smiled.

None of them spoke anything after that for a long time. They kept drinking cups of tea in their own silence. After a long span of maintaining pure silence, Jeetu spoke up, “Can I re-ask the question I asked you?”

Ayan hummed in response.

“What’s wrong? You looked tensed, worried and whatnot.”

Ayan opened up after a few seconds of hesitation. He went ahead and told Jeetu what had happened, who was shot, his journey to the Guptas, the time spent there. He skipped the details about the evidence and pen drive. He told him about Dhriti.

Ayan looked up at the sky then and randomly pointed to a star, “Maybe that is Varun,” he said as if he was the kid who needed reassurance. 

Ayan’s eyes were getting wet. Jeetu placed a hand on Ayan’s knees to calm him down if possible. And it did the trick, Ayan wiped the tears that formed and smiled at Jeetu.

“I salute you Ayan!” Jeetu said standing up.

Ayan tucked his pants, “Sit down, please,” he said. “You look taller than me otherwise.”

Jeetu faked being hurt again showing off his dramatic skills and eventually sitting down after which the boys laughed their hearts out. There was silence again.

“Do you come here often?” Ayan asked.

“Mhmm. Quite often.”

Silence again.

But, this silence was slowly starting to become comfortable rather than being awkward.

After not being able to resist himself anymore, Jeetu tapped on Ayan’s shoulder and asked, “Do you ever want to marry and settle down?”

“Sometimes. But I need to find a good person before that.” He laughed.

“Fair,” Jeetu said.

“And you?” Ayan asked.

“I do want to, my parents want me to settle too, but again, no too many good people yet!”

“We are sailing in the same boat, aren’t we?” Ayan asked.

“Yes,” Jeetu giggled.

“What about kids? Do you want any?” Jeetu asked casually.

“Come closer,” Ayan said and Jeetu complied. “Don’t tell anyone but I do want to have a daughter, maybe.”

Jeetu smiled. “I knew you were a softie inside,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Ayan questioned looking a little offended.

But Jeetu didn’t care a bit.

“Yeah! You show the world that you are a macho man, superman, I-can-do-anything-I-like kind of a person but deep inside you and a timid, soft boy who wants a lot of love.” Jeetu said.

“Stop exposing me,” Ayan said while trying to suppress his smile.

“You would be a great dad, Ayan!” 

“Thank you,” Ayan said. “Can I tell you a secret?” He asked, when Jeetu hummed, he continued, “I am guilty, but I have a name ready too- Isha!”

“Aww! Softie! You are too cute, Ranjan Sir,” Jeetu teased Ayan. “Isha is a cute name though.”

Ayan hid his face in his palms, a little embarrassed.

“I am sure you have a similar secret too,” Ayan told Jeetu.

“None!”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Then don’t.”

“JEETU!!”

The banter went on for a while until Jeetu finally confessed, “Okay fine! I, though, don't have preferences as such, but I guess, I would love to love a daughter- Sanya?”

“Sanya?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s a cute name,” Ayan said. “You’re a softie too.” Ayan grinned.

The two men were sipping another glass of tea sitting close to each other, gazing at the stars, when Ayan looked to face Jeetu.

“Thank you Jeetu,” he said. “I didn’t have quite a great day. You made it better. Much much better.”

“Are we friends now?” Jeetu asked jokingly.

“Best Friends!”

“Aww, softie,” Jeetu teased again.

“Jeetu no, ple-”

Ayan’s words were cut down by a loud sound.

A  _ gunshot _ .

Anyone would know that.

The sound was dangerously close and Ayan feared all of a sudden. Ayan had been fearing a lot lately, and things were fucked up, so he decided to be brave. He remembered not leaving the gun at home and bringing it up to the terrace.

He pulled it out, and another gunshot.

Jeetu flinched. 

He looked scared.

Ayan held him by his arm and pushed him behind himself.

“Don’t move! Stay with me!” He ordered Jeetu. “Don’t speak a word.”

Another gunshot.

Ayan moved closer to the terrace door, when it banged open and five muscular men in black tight clothes walked in the terrace, with guns in their hands.

Jeetu was trying his best to hide behind Ayan and not make any noise. He was luckily successful.

Another gunshot.

This time in the air.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Ayan screamed to ask.

None of them replied. They pulled the trigger once again and fired another bullet. Ayan then fired a bullet at the men in reflex.

The sheer suddenness of the bullet scared the goons and there was a ruckus for exactly 19 seconds. Within the short span, Ayan and Jeetu were able to hide before the gunshots began again.

This time two at a time.

Ayan peeked out and aimed the gun at one of the goons and fired the bullet. The bullet pierced through the body and the goon groaned in pain. The man fell unconscious. 

The other goon looked very huge and angry, he aimed at Ayan and pulled the trigger. 

The bullet was fired.

It left the gun and was on its way.

The speed increased.

Any moment, he would be shot.

But as a part of his defence training, head learnt to duck, and he did exactly that.

The moment the bullet was about to reach Ayan, he duked and saved himself.

He was alive and he was grateful.

But the next soundwave that hit his ears, scared him.

He heard a loud groan.

A groan too loud.

A groan too close to him.

And a bullet that was aimed at him but couldn’t even touch him.

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, again.
> 
> Yes, cannot practically not do stars with RANJEET.
> 
> Just to let you know, CBSE announced board dates, and that's another reason I am dying. I don't know how often I will be posting, but I will be updating it, because I was threatened to not abandon this :(

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, you should expect a 'stars' reference in every chapter, no joke✨


End file.
